Chapter III, Capitol: Wretched Souls
- Six Feet Under -
The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games
Training Day One: Morning
Roman Montclair, District Four Male
It was still dark outside when Roman woke up, hair dishevelled and dried dribble on his chin. Somewhere on the horizon, behind the countless Capitol towers that held sleeping people, the sun was nestled away.
Roman had always been an early riser — a product of hard-working parents who never rested — and it was one of the few things he was thankful for that they passed down to him.
He wasn't a lazy, useless beach bum that was all too common in District Four after practise mornings. The same boys and girls who used to turn their noses up at Roman when he was younger, dirty and poor… before he realised that appearances changed perceptions.
He crossed his bedroom floor, opening up the long drapes even wider to admire the sleepy city below. They didn't really know him — fanatics that praised an invisible woman in the sky — but they liked him because he was destined to die.
Or will I? Roman thought, a small, confident smile on his face. I guess winning is one way to secure a real future.
Even in the face of death, Roman knew that he had to keep up his facade. He didn't know Cosette at all or what circle she ran with, but the pretense was set and Roman was nothing if not fully committed to what he put his mind to.
He headed to the bathroom, climbing into the shower. The boiling, hot water pummelled down onto his back, making his teeth clench. He enjoyed the scalding. It gave him a lovely natural flush, easing away any grime.
He climbed out, wiped away the steam from the mirror, and meticulously placed his hair in a purposely scruffy-but-managed way. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he headed back into his bedroom and towards the closet.
Inside, a very dull grey uniform hung on the hanger. He reached out with his fingertips and immediately grimaced.
Polyester? That's a bit cheap of them.
"I can make better clothes than this," Roman grumbled, dropping his towel and slipping the uniform on until it hugged every inch of his body. He turned to the mirror, admiring the reflection that stared back at him.
He looked presentable, tidy, a well-to-do boy who had been training his entire life and posed a very dangerous threat to the other tributes.
He knew he wasn't — training was for the dumb kids who had no hope — but like a chameleon, Roman thrived in a camouflaged environment. He would find other tributes that matched his look and would roll with them for as long as necessary.
And they would never suspect a thing.
Roman headed into the main apartment, sat at the table, and poured himself a bowl of cereal. Not too long into his breakfast, the rest of the team awoke, joining him.
"You're up early," Talise commented, sitting down opposite him. She was Cosette's mentor, but they had made it apparent they wanted the pair of them to be partners.
"Early bird catches the worm," Roman smirked, eating a spoonful of crunchy wheat, "I wanted to make sure I'm ready for training."
Talise smirked also, but she held more malice in her lips. "Cockiness will get you killed if you can't back it up."
"What makes you believe that I can't?"
"I know what kind of boy you are, Roman," Talise was unfazed, words like knives, "You build yourself on lies, but that foundation is shaky… it won't be long before something brings you down."
Roman felt a chill up his spine as his cheeks flushed hot. What does she even mean? But deep down, Roman knew. Talise saw straight through his lies, his false confidence and bravado.
"Right…" Roman ate a larger spoonful of cereal, taking his time to chew. Talise's eyes never wavered from him, even as Cosette and Marin joined them at the table.
"Cosette?" Talise turned her attention towards her, "Marin and I have set you both up with District One and Two's tributes. You'll make a team."
Cosette blinked, "Okay."
"I like her. She never argues against me," Talise laughed, "Do you have an issue with it, Roman?"
Roman challenged her gaze. He definitely did not like her but he also couldn't be the one that caused all of the issues around them. He played the rich bitch role well… but even he had to be wary. "Absolutely. Why would it?"
"Perfect. You two better eat up then and head down."
Roman tried to ignore the annoyance building in him like a fire. He ate his cereal slowly and purposefully, avoiding staring at Talise or Cosette for too long.
He knew he needed the alliance, no matter what. He just had to hope they didn't see through him as quickly as Talise did.
Roman and Cosette got up in tandem, heading for the elevator. As the doors shut, Roman almost felt relieved to get out of the apartment. The slow-burning annoyance in his chest soon turned into nerves and exciting as the prospects of meeting new people.
Treat them like the idiots back home, Roman thought. They're no different. You knew training, you've got this. Just lie through your teeth and bat your eyelashes.
The ride down was quiet, Cosette choosing to stare at the doors rather than in Roman's direction.
"How are we going to approach the alliance then?"
"We'll walk up to them."
"Just like that?" Roman laughed, "It seems ballsy."
"I would assume that they've been told the same thing as us," Cosette added.
Oh. "Yeah, you're right," Roman laughed again, but cut himself short when he realised he was trying too hard. He was supposed to be a natural liar — a born pretender — but he was beginning to think he was out of his depth.
The elevator descended until it stopped abruptly at the bottom. The doors opened, letting artificial flood in.
Roman took a deep breath, fingers idly ruffling and redoing his hair, just to make sure everything felt precisely measured and ready to go.
"Ready?" Roman said, but Cosette was already walking ahead, head held high, and Roman laughed, following suit.
Niobe Nervanthis, District Ten Female
Niobe was a bundle of nerves as the elevator seemed to take forever to head downstairs. Her eyes flickered between Rafe's tense disposition and the numbers ticking down achingly slow, unsure of where to settle her gaze.
What's going to happen? Niobe felt the pit in her stomach open up.
Neither of them had a singular plan between them. Do I stay with Rafe? Do I try to make allies? Do I just do my own thing?
"Are you nervous?" Rafe asked, completely out of the blue.
The pair of them were polar opposites — Niobe far more submissive than Rafe's outward approach — but, somehow, Niobe found comfort in him. Two kids shoved into the unknown, side by side. He was something from home, a kid bound by the same stress that she was.
"Yeah," Niobe answered honestly, "Who knows what'll happen?"
"Yeah," Rafe sighed, "Do you want to stick together?"
The words were music to Niobe's ears. She didn't realise she needed that sort of comfort until it was presented to her.
"Sure," Niobe smiled, feeling a little less stressed.
The elevator finally hit the bottom and opened up. Rafe and Niobe walked out together, a show of arms — only to find the group of tributes huddled together, like the cattle that Niobe often saw on the walk to and from school.
"We've got this," Rafe whispered as they joined the herd and, in that moment, Niobe realised that Rafe really wasn't all that bad. Who could blame him for being so mad? Niobe was mad… she thought.
"Welcome, tributes!"
From the far back, a man clothed in red walked towards the group. He was chipper and bright, a wizened face that held a surprising amount of kindness.
"Today, your training begins. In just a few days time, you'll be entering Limos' arena. Your dedication and determination will be tested. From the ashes of twenty-three fallen children, a Victor will rise. Learn what you can… experience what you can… make friendships and bond whilst you can."
This feels uplifting, Niobe pondered. The man didn't seem so doom-and-gloom. It was as if he wanted the kids to enjoy their final moments.
Niobe tensed, a shiver up her spine. She couldn't let her guard down. She had to keep herself grounded and present. He still wants to see you die, Niobe. He might seem nice, Rafe might seem nice, but… Niobe's train of thought simply vanished, stolen from her mind.
She shifted next to Rafe, trying to not seem so visibly uncomfortable.
Behind the man in red, two sisters appeared, each carrying a silver tray full of golden goblets. They weaved through the crowd of tributes, politely handing out the drinks. Niobe accepted it with a small smile.
"Let us toast! To the Hunger Games!"
"I bet it's poisoned…" Rafe mumbled, knocking it back regardless.
Niobe stared down at the pitch black liquid sloshing in her goblet. She took a deep breath — a flash of confidence that ignited in her body — as she chucked it to the back of her throat and swallowed. It didn't taste of anything apart from the gross medicine her parents would feed her when she had a temperature. What is it called—?
It was only then that Niobe realised that the Training Centre contained no weapons.
The few stalls that lined the walls contained survival skills, but there was nothing to actually, really kill someone.
"Tributes! Limos has not only gifted you a second chance at life, but She has blessed you with the power within! But remember, above all else, that only one of you may live. Praise Limos."
With that final word, the man clothed in red left. The room was suddenly vacant of any adults — just twenty-four confused, lost teenagers who didn't know what to do.
It was only then that they began to peel away, one by one, wary glances and unnerved stares as the stakes were laid out in front of them. Niobe and Rafe were one of the last to leave, awkwardly observing and watching.
"Together?" Rafe said.
Niobe nodded, ignoring the hard thump in her chest that almost made her physically sick. "Sure."
Rafe led the way and Niobe followed, eyes flickering around the room and the tributes. The atmosphere was tense, strangled — her nerves were beginning to peel away at the seams.
"Should we start with the basics?" Niobe asked, but Rafe was walking faster ahead, skirting the stalls as he realised that there was nothing but menial tasks.
He stopped abruptly, Niobe almost colliding into his back. He spun around, lips twisted into confusion. "I feel like this needs to be said… I don't know if I want allies, Niobe."
Niobe's cheeks flushed but she nodded, "I know. We've not confirmed anything."
"I— just think that we're better together until we know more," Rafe was surprisingly articulate and focused, a far cry from the boy who seemed to speak before thinking. Niobe almost felt bad for judging him harshly during the carriage ride yesterday.
"There's no contract," Niobe confirmed lightly.
"We don't even know each other."
Niobe nodded again, "We don't." It's okay, Rafe. I get it.
Rafe shuffled awkwardly, "…I'm sorry. I sound like a right dick."
"I don't think you are," Niobe felt bad for the kid. He was clearly trying to do better.
"Let's just do something, anything. I don't mind. You pick and I'll follow."
Niobe wasn't the type to take the lead — a quiet, bookish wallflower who felt most comfortable in the shadows, dreaming of bigger things — but she realised, in that moment, she couldn't hide forever. To win, she'd have to stand taller than ever before.
I have to grow a spine, Niobe realised, a glimmer of a memory in her mind about her brother. She tried to remember his face, but the images in her head were blurry.
"We need to learn how to make a fire, to live off of the land, to hunt and find food," Niobe recalled past memories of a book she had read at… some point.
"I grew up in the poorer parts of District Ten. I know all about survival."
"Yeah?" Niobe replied curiously, "I grew up on a farm. We weren't exactly rich but we held our own."
"We were too poor for a farm," Rafe shrugged ruefully, "I'm already talking in past tense. Fuck sake. We are too poor for a farm."
Niobe placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, "Let's just learn to make a fire and not dwell on it, too much?"
It was easier said than done. As Niobe and Rafe approached the stall to learn how to make a fire, her gut already told her all she needed to know — people like her and Rafe were just not meant to win at life.
Ares Gemal, District Nine Female
Ares had never felt more alone.
Sitting on the floor, cross-legged, her fingers meticulously weaved the long, thin strands of weed until it was tightly knitted together, forming a small bowl. She held it proudly in front of her, a small smile gracing her lips.
It almost reminded her of home — she had taught herself to sew in an effort to help out, fixing and mending the ragged clothes that her and the other orphans wore. She was charitable by nature: a product of having very little but appreciating it all.
But she couldn't help but want a little more.
Her eyes gazed around the room longingly. She could see that most people were in pairs, no doubt their district partners. Some people were sharing stalls out of politeness — but how long would it last?
Cenric doesn't like me, Ares knew it, or at least, she felt it. He barely acknowledged her and, when he did, it was short, curt words as if she was beneath him. He has a better shot than I do. I'd only drag him down.
But at the very same time, Ares took a deep sigh, forcing her smile to be bolder and wider. I should be happier. Limos chose me, of all people, to be her sacrifice.
She had to remain positive. It was all that she had going for her.
Ares continued to weave the bowl until it grew bigger and larger, shaping into a basket. She leaned over to grab a flask of water, pouring it in to see if it was watertight. When she realised that there was minimal dripping, her smile flourished.
"What are you doing there?"
Ares looked up through her thick mane of hair, pushing it up and over her head. "Oh, hello."
The girl in front of her was short-ish, trimmed hair that sat neatly on her head. Her face was kind and gentle, something that immediately put Ares' initial anxiety at ease.
"Is that a basket?"
"This?" Ares held it up, "Yeah, but it's not the best—"
"—That's really cool, though!"
Ares' cheeks immediately grew hotter. "Oh, thank you… that's very nice of you."
"Did you make it completely out of the weeds?" The girl sat down next to Ares, almost butting in. She seemed fascinated, which warmed Ares' heart, even if she didn't take compliments very well.
"It's really easy," Ares laughed nervously.
"I wish I had the patience to learn this."
"I can show you, if you want?" Ares offered, picking up two large, waxy leaves. "It's just about slotting them together so tight that they overlap a little…"
Ares went to work, lost in the moment. Her fingers nimbly created a small basket within a few minutes. She was so engrossed that she almost forgot that the other girl had been watching her the entire time, silently in awe.
"Sorry…" Ares mumbled, "I got distracted a bit. Here, this is another one. You can have it."
The girl audibly gasped, accepting it. "You're very nice, do you know that? Not many people just talk to strangers without some hesitance."
"I've done it my whole life. It's how I've survived," Ares' smile faltered slightly as the sadness perked up from within.
She vaguely remembered having to barter on the streets for an extra blanket, just to help keep herself warm at night… only to then give that blanket to one of the younger girls who needed it more. It made her feel warm albeit sad.
"That sounds horrible, I'm so sorry."
Oh no, that's not what I want. "Don't be! I survived. It taught me to be resilient and never give up."
The girl's smile continued to sit right below her eyes, crumpling her small face. "I'm Tay, by the way."
"I'm Ares," Ares replied, "It's nice to meet you."
"You're District Nine, right?"
"Yeah," Ares blushed, "Is it obvious?"
"I noticed you from yesterday. Your hair really makes you stand out," Tay teased, laughing lightly, "It's not a bad thing, though! Just makes you… memorable."
Memorable? Ares wasn't used to that. She always felt overlooked due to her orphan background. Her introverted nature even cried for the shadows. It's where she felt most safe and confident.
I can't hide here, Ares realised, deep in her mind. To survive, to be Limos' chosen one, she had to be the one to stand out.
"You're really kind," Ares whispered quietly, cheeks red and hiding beneath the stray pieces of hair that fell in front of her face.
"No reason to be horrible when we're all in this together," Tay reasoned, standing up, "I'll let you carry on. It was good to meet you though, Ares, I wish you well."
Tay began to walk away when something inside of Ares stirred. Tay was nice — she was kind, gentle, complimentary. She seemed genuine and Ares preferred some company to complete isolation…
"Unless—" Ares paused as Tay stopped, turning around, "—you'd like to stay with me? I can maybe teach you some more things!"
Her heart was racing. She felt a little lightheaded. Ares was so used to rejection that she was already prepared to apologise and continue about her day… but Tay smiled, cheeks warm and walked back towards her.
"I never thought you'd ask!"
Ares jumped up, "Where do you want to go next? I can show you how to treat a cut to stop it getting infected, or, or maybe I can teach you how to wrap a wound—"
"—We have time," Tay stopped her, smiling at Ares' rushed words spilling from her mouth, "We have, like, three days to do it all."
Does that mean we're an alliance? A pairing? Ares' head rushed ahead but she tried to hold it back. No, no, we're just two people keeping each other company. Why would she want to ally with me?
Enjoy what you have, Ares. And so, she did, pushing away all of the confusion into the pits of her stomach and forcing herself way out of her shell.
She had to adapt. She knew that. At least, with Tay, she felt safe enough to try.
Kozin Eldarie, District Twelve Male
Kozin perched himself casually by one of the stalls, arms crossed over his chest, observing the other tributes as they mingled.
He could tell a lot by watching people from a distance. He did it so often at his parents' parties — eyeing up the guests to see their dynamics — that it was easy to guess someone's emotions just by the way they held themselves.
Deep down, as confident as he looked on the outside, Kozin was a ball of nerves.
Sakura had been acting weird around him. To their mentor, Gethin, Sakura was confident and outspoken. She wasn't afraid to speak what came to her mind. But with Kozin, he realised, she looked confused and lost. He quickly realised that she was avoiding him for some reason but didn't want to pry too much.
Guess I should make some friends?
And that's what Kozin did.
He skirted the stalls, speaking to anyone who made eye contact with him. He learned names as quickly as they were dropped: Sanjay from District One and Ludwin from District Two. Alanis and Lazarus from District Eight. Odell from District Seven.
He wanted to know them all. He didn't know why — honestly couldn't place a finger on it — but something was urging him to at least make an effort. A social butterfly by nature, Kozin thrived on conversation.
He made his way to the next stall, only half paying attention to their contents.
"What's this?" Kozin said allowed, flicking through the battered manual in front of him.
"It's a book," The boy next to him answered.
Kozin laughed, "I mean, I know that… I mean, what is it about?"
The boy just stared at Kozin for a minute before he looked down, skim reading the first few pages. Kozin watched him in odd fascination. The boy closed the book, settling it down on the stall.
"It's about survival methods. The basics of hunting versus foraging, water sourcing, the best materials to start a fire with."
"Oh, so a lot," Kozin nodded, "And you got all of that from the few pages that you read?"
"There's a summary on the front page."
Oh, that makes sense. Kozin felt stupid. Luckily for him, however, shame was but a fleeting emotion on him. If roles were reversed, he'd find it endearing — he could only hope that the boy in front of him felt similar.
"Did you want to read the summary?"
Kozin laughed, accepting the book as it was handed to him, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out. What's your name, anyway?"
The boy didn't answer immediately, as if a little lost in thought. He eventually gave Kozin a polite smile, looking back down at the books on the stall. "I'm Oscar."
"Kozin," Kozin smiled genuinely, realising that Oscar didn't seem the best at communicating, "Lemme guess your district… uh, is it Three?"
"What gave it away?"
Kozin smirked. He couldn't quite place it, but he definitely felt like he had experienced something similar before, "I just hazard a guess."
The pair of them stopped in awkward silence for a moment, Oscar skimming through the books. Kozin decided to copy him, curiously watching him from the corner of his eye. He wasn't drawn to Oscar in any way, shape or form, but fascination rooted him in place.
"It was nice to meet you," Oscar said, turning to leave.
"Oh," Kozin was shocked by his abruptness, "Yeah, you too."
Oscar didn't even look over his shoulder as he walked away. Kozin smiled again, respecting Oscar's desire to clearly be alone over mingling with the other poor, unfortunate souls.
Kozin placed the book in his hand on the stall and continued on his search, wanting to meet as many people as possible before settling down with an alliance.
That was his goal — an alliance. He knew, deep down, he would never cope with the stress of it all alone. And with Sakura's hesitance around him eliminating her as a possibility almost immediately, he knew he had to broaden his horizons.
He scanned the room once more, deciding to be a bit more tactical.
The other tributes were still walking in silence. The atmosphere was tense and dark — nobody really knew what was happening, but they were attempting their best to make the best of a bad situation.
He turned around, settling into the newest activity of spear-making. He pulled the sticks up and lined them together, following the instructions to wrap them in twine. He bit down on his tongue to concentrate.
"What are you doing?"
Kozin looked up out of the corner of his eye, "I'm making a spear, apparently."
The girl with her short, dark hair came closer to him. She held a semi-smile on her face, leaning down so they were at eye level. "That's going to be a thick spear, don't you think?"
"I've never had any complaints before," Kozin chortled to himself.
"I've seen you walking around and talking to a lot of the other tributes," The girl continued, "How come I never got the honour of being sought out?"
Kozin placed the spears down, leaning up to get a proper look at the girl. She held his gaze — dark, twinkling eyes that held a certain air of confidence and cool. Her smile, however, was completely genuine. It felt… truthful.
"I would have made my way around to you," Kozin smiled, "I'm Kozin… and you are?"
"Elika," Elika answered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Elika? That's a pretty name," Kozin replied, "What is your speciality then, Elika? I don't think I've seen you at a particular station yet."
"I don't think I have one," Elika laughed breathlessly, "My district partner has sorta abandoned me. I think it was getting a bit too much for him… he went to the bathroom and hasn't come back just yet."
Kozin frowned, "That's really sad."
"Yeah," Elika sighed, "It's a bit overwhelming, isn't it? Suddenly being here, it feels almost—"
"—Strange?"
"Yeah. It feels strange. I can't put my finger on it but something is just off…"
Kozin's eyebrows furrowed. Maybe his experience wasn't isolated? All he knew was that Elika had similar thoughts to him and he wanted to find out more. Besides… she was very easy on the eyes and seemed nice. The kind of girl his Mother would've loved him to court.
"I'm inclined to agree. Why don't we talk a little more during lunch?"
w w w. sixfeetunderhg. blogspot. c o m.
Questions!
What's your Among Us main colour?
Out of these four, anyone you particularly like and why? I'm running out of questions, guys.
Why did I decide to do twelve Capitol chapters? Can anyone tell me why I hate myself?
For clarity, I will not be confirming any alliances until the end of the Capitol... mainly because a lot of these are not set in stone and I have a few make-up/break-ups to write it out. For now, enjoy multiple interactions and try to work out your tribute's end partner(s).
Also, like a proud Father, I watched Remus win his first game. I simp for David for all the memes. Opti is always sus, vote her out.
~Corey.